Don't Stop Dancing
by Kurt Fearella
Summary: Mr. Schue has a rather special lesson for the seniors' last week at McKinley. Spoilers for Nationals, Matthew Morrison bashing. Flames are accepted, as long as they're entertaining.


Mr. Schuester glanced at the trophy for what felt like the thousandth time. The effect was the same; his toes curled up in his pointy shoes and his spine tingled.

They'd _won_.

But even the fact that the New Directions were the at the top where they rightfully belong couldn't distract Mr. Schue from the fact that his lesson plan for graduation week was probably the best idea he'd had in a very long time.

"Alraaaaaaaight." he rubbed his hands together and beamed at his choir, who smiled right back.

"Yeah!" Artie pumped his fist, obviously still basking in the warm glow of victory.

"Alright guys. You all know that graduation is happening...and I have a great lesson."

About half of the room teared up. _Graduation. _

They were not ready to say goodbye.

Mr. Schue turned around and slowly, the build the tension, wrote the lesson in thick, all-caps, black letters.

"_Matthew Morrison_." he tapped the board for emphasis.

"Um...Mr. Schue? This is kind of our last week at McKinley. Why is our lesson about some random guy that nobody's ever heard of?" Finn called out, wrinkling his nose.

"Yeah. Shouldn't we be doing some sort of sappy cry thing?" Puck looked genuinely bewildered.

"No. Guys. This is possibly my last lesson with you guys. I want it to be special." Mr. Schue stuck out his cleft chin.

"And how exactly is Matthew Morrison special?" Quinn raised a condescending brow.

"He's dead?" suggested Sugar.

"No." said Mr. Schue.

"He's some sort of Christopher Cross crooner?" Kurt offered.

"No." said Mr. Schue, chuckling.

"He's an alligator." Brittany said in a matter-of-fact voice."

"...No." said Mr. Schue.

"He has an alliteration name." Puck threw out.

"No." said Mr. Schue.

"But he does!" protested Puck.

"He's a pedophile." Santana rolled her eyes.

"YES – no." said Mr. Schue. "He's a ridiculously attractive singer who covers pop to soul in his album: _Matthew Morrison._"

"Creative." Rory snickered from behind his palm.

Rachel raised her tanned arm. "While I'm sure Matthew Whorrison –

"Morrison." interjected Mr. Schue.

" – is a talented artist, shouldn't we be doing something less random on this very emotional last week?"

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"No guys. We're doing Matthew Morrison. The guy's a genius. He sounds like me, but better. I'll show you."

"Please no rapping." Kurt breathed. "Pleeeeaaase."

Blaine, who was actually sitting next to him for once, gave a start. "Wait – Mr. Schue's attempted _rapping_?"

"You should have seen it." Kurt whispered back. "He tried to make me think I was a bridesmaid. He put his arm around me. I was so terrified that I hid in the corner, glaring at him and using a tambourine to ward everyone off."

The boys turned to face the front of the room, and Blaine stared at Mr. Schue, a little wary of the "caring" teacher.

A lively dance tune floated from the band members, but the New Directions still wore expressions of doubt. Mr. Schue did a mental tango. He was ready to show them how much of a star he could be.

"_And it feels like an endless December rain that chills_

_Black mascara that runs down your pretty face – _"

Quinn raised a manicured finger to her eye and swiped her eyelid, her face twisted with disgust.

"_Your smile is out of place, days got you down_

_But things are looking up_

_Two shAAAAdows_

_Under a STREEtlight – _"

In the back row, Kurt cringed. Mr. Schue sounded like Kurt had in sophmore year when he'd thrown the high note in Defying Gravity. But Mr. Schue wasn't screwing up on purpose. He was just a failure.

"_WEEEE're just dancing in the rain_

_BAAAAdies flowing like wAAter_

_We'll be alrigh as long as we _

_Don't stop dancing, dancing..._"

Mr. Schue gestured for Mike to stand up and dance, but Mike remained in his seat, his face blank.

"_Don't stop dancing, dancing..._" Mr. Schue sang the line over and over, eventually reaching up and literally forcing Tina out of her plastic chair.

She miserably danced at the front of the room, and then Mr. Schue grabbed Mercedes and pushed her over to Tina.

Then Puck.

Then Finn. Rachel. Joe. Sam. Artie, who wheeled unenthusiastically across the floor.

Sugar, Rory, Kurt, Blaine, Quinn, Santana, Brittany, Mike, and Matt, who decided to make an appearance, although nobody really knew who he was. Not even his football buddies.

"_Don't stop dancing, dancing..._"

"_Don't stop dancing, dancing..._"

"_Don't stop dancing, dancing..._"

"_Don't stop dancing, dancing..._"

"_Don't stop dancing, dancing..._"

"_Don't stop dancing, dancing..._"

"_Don't stop dancing, dancing..._"

He circled the club as they attempted to dance, poking them if they stopped.

After two minutes and twenty-three seconds, the horror stopped.

"Well, Mr. Schue." Rachel said after a long silence. "If you ever try to make us do anything like that again, nobody's coming back at all next year."

"GUYS! This is a CLASSIC!"

"I am so regretting giving him that teacher of the year." Finn muttered under his breath as the band struck the opening chords for Matthew Morrison's next song, Summer Rain.

Even though the song mentioned not caring about all of the people seeing, when Mr. Schue next looked up, the room was empty.

He stopped dancing.

**A/N: Review?**


End file.
